This is the fifth in an ongoing series of poems written by women living with cancer. The most recent poem in the series to appear here was What the Women Wrote, 3 (April 2013).
What the Women Wrote, 4
By the Women Who Know
Ain’t I a woman?
is so powerful and real.
Can’t I produce greatness, brilliance,
and pure genius from the core of my femininity?
I am humbled by the mere conception.
I am peaceful and at ease. I move to the light
sounding the support siren.
Love is the greatest gift of all
so I send it to everyone
and I dream of a cure
for all cancers.
Ain’t I a woman?
Yes, I am, regardless of what I lost.
Look at me.
The scars I have are my war paint
showing the battle I fought.
The fear I had that day
made the room feel sweltering.
I wanted a drenching cold rain
to envelop me completely.
Today I ask:
Ain’t I a woman?
Outside is constant rain, rain, rain.
Then, suddenly, gradually, light;
sunlight shining arm and hopeful
like the light of love and friendship
inside this room. I am intrigued
by the light and the heat, especially
the warmth and glow.
Ain’t I a woman?
Yes I am.
The rain will fall, the sun will shine.
There’s always a rainbow at the end
of the tunnel. I will be successful
at the end of this journey
hoping that I have a long life
and, if not, remembering
being in many oceans,
bays, and streams.
Cancer is not
so much a part of it.
Ain’t I a woman?
Yes I am, indeed.
I was born this way.
And I would rather be
breastless than breathless.
So I stand tall on
Ain’t I a woman.
Wow, very powerful stuff.
Powerful writing.